Autumn in My Heart
by TheSpeedofLight
Summary: In that instant, her world was bathed in red-a red so bright in depth that it resembled the bleeding landscapes of licorice flowers.
1. Prologue: Languorous Red Lips

**Prologue: Languorous Red Lips**

_Tonight—she had promised. _He thought to himself. His Madame never disappointed him. He touched the rows of sharp medical instruments lovingly. On a dresser, a lovely gramophone played his favorite opera. He hummed along with the mellifluous melody and tested the razor's sharpness against the prostitute's skin. Outside, the rain fell like a waterfall. Lightning flashed and split the sky in two.

Much to his pleasure, he was given specific directions to play with the prey as much as he pleased. Granted, with every order, there's a set of rules that goes along with it. And one of those rules involves a limit to his sadistic game. On account of that, slashing this prostitute's wrists was as far as he was allowed to do until his guest of honor arrives. It was usually a pain in the behind whenever he had to wait. His Madame takes her time and always arrives in style, clad in red from head to toe like a goddess of blood.

In the dim candle light, he marveled at the sight of her frightened expression and wide eyes. For the first time that day, he noticed that she had the bluest eyes. She had beautiful eyes, ocean eyes that are brimming with tears. But not all the blue in this world can wash away the color red. After all, red was an extravagantly beautiful color. To top that, nothing can compare to a natural beauty like using one's own blood. Morbid yes, but not to him. Red was something to revere like a certain special woman whose red hair, red clothes, and red lipstick intoxicated him. These whores could never compare.

A gleeful chuckle reverberated in his throat. He meticulously mixed the rich blood from her wrists with bright lipstick paint in a jar by using a small brush. The concoction turned into a rich, bright red, similar to blood but better and succulent in color. It was heavenly as the red liquid blended perfectly He loosened the rope around her mouth and she gasped in air. The opera's mellifluous melody sent delicious chills down his spine as he mixed the blend while walking slowly towards her.

Her eyes regarded him with a fearful expression like a doe facing the end of a hunter's rifle. The sight of her quivering pretty lips pleased him, and it made him wonder if her screams would be just as beautiful coming from the same but split lips. There were bruises near her mouth where the rope had been, but he ignored it, because nothing called for his attention at the moment but the color red. He dipped the brush in the jar and swirled the mixture around before carefully painting it on her bottom lip.

He didn't realize it until his gut twisted painfully at the sight of fresh blood over a living body. His blood thrummed violently in his temple, and he fought back the urge to murder now. His entire body felt scorched in flames as he achingly tried to suppress his bloodlust. In the background, the opera piece climaxed and the orchestra's violins eerily crescendoed. It seemed like the right moment, no, it was _his _moment. It was his debut as the orchestra welcomed his upcoming marvelous act. And if that wasn't enough, her blood was singing to him too. It was too perfect, and if he didn't act now, he'll regret it. Who cares what his Madame says.

Lightning flashed and the false light illuminated his face, and the prostitute screamed. She fearfully looked away and shut her eyes tightly. Behind his spectacles, a pair of inhuman translucent yellow eyes flashed angrily. He gritted his teeth and angrily set the small jar of red liquid down.

"Filthy whore," he muttered under his breath and yanked her face towards his. She opened her eyes and trembled in terror as his lips split into a rueful grin, displaying a row of sharp incisors.

"When the time comes, I'll give you a kiss on those bloody lips of yours."

* * *

Author's Note:

I do not own Kuroshitsuji. The beginning is pretty much canon stuff.

Thank you Vespisia for editing.

My first Kuroshitsuji fanfic. Reviews are very nice...and thanks.


	2. Chapter 1: A Red Blunder

**Chapter 1: A Red Blunder**

"Sebastian…," stated Ciel, the Earl of Phantomhive, "is a pawn that can move across the chessboard like this." Using his black knight, he knocked off his aunt's bishop off of its white square. With a smug smile, the thirteen-year-old boy reclined back against his chair and directed a challenging gaze at his aunt.

The lately widowed wife of the Baron Barnett, Countess Angelina Barnett, sat with her arms crossed against her chest and regarded her nephew incredulously. "Huh?! Ciel, isn't that against the rules?" the countess exclaimed in shock as she made her next move begrudgingly.

"Rules have no meanings in the real world. There will inevitably be knights who break the rules, and pawns that disobey orders," explained Ciel as he linked his fingers together and rested his chin on them.

The countess's eyes widened a fraction. Ten years ago, she had heard the similar statement, but it came from an older version of Ciel. Her memory took her back to the Durless Mansion—the time when she saw the door of her father's study opened ajar and unintentionally overheard her father's business discussion with a man named Vincent Phantomhive. Now, the incarnate of that man is sitting before her now. She remained still and looked past her nephew, her gaze distant. Her nephew's words were murky and incoherent like sounds traveling underwater.

"If you let your guard down for even an instant, you'll be in checkmate," Ciel commented and placed his Knight in front of her King. He looked up at his aunt, but she wasn't listening. "Madame, you don't look well."A look of slight concern etched his features. "Should I call Grell to pick you up?" When she didn't respond, he loudly cleared his throat.

Alarmed, she snapped out of her trance and stared at the chessboard, adamantly avoiding his gaze. "I lost?" she asked incredulously.

"Sebastian?" Ciel called his butler forward. A butler clad in black from head to toe entered the parlor, bearing a tray of tea.

"Yes, Madame." Sebastian answered her as he handed her a cup of tea. She accepted it mechanically and stared at Ciel as Sebastian set a teacup in front of her nephew.

"You could've checked me moments ago with your knight by sacrificing your queen, but you hesitated, Madame Red. And that was your blunder," Ciel pointed out and dumped three cubes of sugar into his tea cup.

"I was…thinking of your fa--"she started then abruptly stopped herself.

"You were thinking of my…?" he prompted as he observed her expression from the lip of his raised teacup.

"Oh. I was thinking of your mother—my sister," she corrected. Without thinking, she took a sip from the steaming tea.

"Careful, Madame!" Sebastian warned belatedly as the countess spat out the scorching liquid and fanned her tongue.

"Too Late," Ciel signed.

"I'll go get some ice and water," Sebastian excused himself and smiled apologetically before disappearing through the doorway.

"Well, I was thinking of how your mother…" she continued, thinking of an excuse for her distraction. Her nephew looked on. "…would only want what's best for you," she continued.

"Oh?" He stirred his tea cup and watched his reflection swirl in the light brown surface of the tea.

"I know that the reason why you came back to England was to avenge your parent's death. But, darling, avenging a loved one's death doesn't bring them back. It'll never be the same again," she said softly.

"I did it for myself, Aunt." Ciel set his teacup down on its saucer and fingered his family's heirloom, the sapphire ring on his thumb. "I also did it in the name of the Phantomhives."

The countess chewed the inside of her lip as she contemplated his response. Silence passed between them before the countess rose from her armchair. She walked around the table towards him then laid a hand on his head. "If it's still not too late, I would like you to reconsider to…"

"My decision is made, Aunt," Ciel rebuffed her. The countess stepped back and regarded him with hurt.

"The ice is here," Sebastian announced and suddenly materialized into the room.

"You're late." Ciel confirmed.

"A litter of soaked kittens needed me to attend to them," Sebastian candidly explained.

Ciel frowned and massaged his forehead, "If those felines are using my towels, milk, _and _heater, I'll make sure it comes from your paycheck."

"Of course," Sebastian bowed gracefully. "I didn't know that young master is so frugal for a child."

"I have the right to be frugal if the money comes out of my own pockets," Ciel muttered reproachfully.

"Shall I remind you, young master, that I am the reason money fills your pockets?" Sebastian countered back and smiled disarmingly.

The countess chuckled nervously and decided that this impasse of banter between the butler and her nephew was her cue to leave. "Well, it's getting late, I should be going," the countess announced.

Ciel opened his mouth, but was interrupted by Sebastian. "I shall escort you, Madame."

* * *

"Thank you, Sebastian," said the countess as Sebastian helped her put her coat on.

"It's my duty," Sebastian replied offhandedly.

"No, I meant thank you for changing the atmosphere between us." She turned to face him.

"I was merely doing my job as a butler," he responded. "As for the ice, Madame, I—for one—am deeply apologetic for my tardiness."

"Please, there's no need. I only hope that you would stay by that child's side in place of me."

"Have no fear, Madame. I shall be by his side until the end," Sebastian answered and bowed before opening the door for her.

Countess Barnett was greeted with the sight of her awaiting carriage and her butler, Grell Sutcliff, was holding an umbrella under the seething rain.

"I have come to pick you up, Mistress," Grell intoned. His tall, lanky frame was clad in a black trench coat. Thunder clapped in the distance and light illuminated his somber figure.

His strange, golden eyes shimmered behind his spectacles, and Madame Red understood the message underlying his gaze.

The hour of malice has come.

* * *

AN:

A Red Blunder literally means a grave error in my terms.


	3. Chapter 2: Caught Red Handed

With a nod of her elegant head, the woman in red motioned for her butler to take the filthy rag out of the prostitute's mouth.

"What shall we do with you?" the butler mused as he considered how to artfully maim his victim. While pondering this with pleasure, his smile widened into a malicious grin.

"N-no p-p-please." The prostitute rasped fearfully.

"Really, Grell, don't be _too_ sadistic," the woman clad in red reprimanded him.

The butler's eyes met his Madame's gaze ruefully. "Oh? Where are my manners? Would you like to do the honors, Madame Red?" Grell inquired as he motioned to an array of sharp medical instruments displayed on the table.

Madame Red crossed her arms against her chest and smiled wryly, "No, I'll think I'll pass on this one."

"P-please, I implore you to stop this," the whore pleaded.

Madame Red turned to face the girl and her face contorted into utter disgust. "Grell, you know what to do."

In the darkness, two rows of sharp teeth glittered like the smile of a Cheshire cat. "Yes, my lady," he intoned.

* * *

An ear-splitting scream shattered the still air and Sebastian and Ciel immediately ran towards the source that made it.

They turned the corner sharply. Ciel rushed forward to a small rundown house and reached for the door. As he ripped open the door, a speck of blood splashed onto his cheek. His body was paralyzed completely at the bloody mess before him. The female victim, known as Mary Kelly, lay on the blood soak floor, covered in blood. Her face, her limbs, and her chest were shredded and torn, an ominous and bloody sight. Her glassy blue eyes stared unseeingly at the ceiling.

_What—Ciel_ thought in disgust.

"Young master!" Sebastian reached for him and drew them ten paces back from the sight and protectively covered his master's eyes. Ciel panted heavily in the cold, wet air. His fingers bit into his cold palms as he clenched them.

"You really killed her in a rather lavish fashion, Jack the Ripper," Sebastian affirmed to the darkness beyond the door, "or should I say Grell Sutcliff."

The resonance of footsteps sounded in the hollow house and Grell materialized out of the darkness, drenched in blood. "Y-you're wrong. I-I w-was nearby when I heard the scream," Grell stammered. His grave, golden eyes pleaded desperately. With each step he took towards them, a trail of blood filled his footsteps.

He stopped a few feet from them and casted his eyes downward. "I came running here just like you two did," he whispered as his eyebrows knitted tightly together in distraught. A single drop of blood slid down the side of his stricken face like a tear drop.

"Really, Mr. Sutcliff, how can you deny the situation after looking like that? I have to admit, this is the first time I've met anyone like you—the hopeless, innocuous butler. It's quite an impressive appearance, if you ask me, shinigami," Sebastian deadpanned. The corner of his pale lips turned up in wry amusement as he waited for the shinigami's reaction.

"Yes, I'm quite remarkable, aren't I?" Grell mused aloud. A malicious chuckle escaped his lips. He grinned widely, displaying a row of shark teeth. Grell pulled out the ribbon from his hair and took out a red comb from his breast pocket. As he combed his hair, the brown color of his tresses slowly dissolves into red. "I _am_ a fabulous thespian after all," Grell proudly declared as he applied long fake eyelashes to his eyes, then he pulled on black gloves. "Well Sebastian, I should say the same thing about you. You're no different when you're the demon masquerading as a butler." He replaced his spectacles with red rimmed glasses and pushed them onto the bride of his nose accordingly.

"A shinigami disguising himself as a butler, hmm? Why did you pretend to be a butler when you're already a god?" Sebastian asked.

"Good question," Grell answered, "you see…I was quite smitten by a woman."

"And who is that woman?" Sebastian prompted.

"_Me_," a female voice proclaimed from the dark recesses of the house.

The familiar voice reached Ciel's ears and he knocked his butler's hand away. "Madame," he whispered.

The woman's red stilettos appeared first in the semi-darkness as she crossed the threshold of the house before she was in view. She stood beside the shinigami with her arms crossed against her chest. "I've miscalculated again. I didn't know that anyone could see through Grell's disguise." Madame Red smiled ruefully.

"You were on my preliminary suspect list. It would have been impossible for a mere human to attempt all of those volatile murders. Therefore, the possible suspects are _you_, Madame Red and your inhuman accomplice, Grell Sutcliff," Ciel surmised.

"I've wavered during our game of chess," she recalled, eyeing him disdainfully. "However, this time…I WON'T HESITATE AGAIN!"

The feral sound of Grell's chainsaw cut through the silent night as he lunged at Sebastian. Both adversaries fought, and the sounds and smell of ripped flesh filled the dampened air. Madame Red turned her back on her nephew and pulled out a knife from the sleeve of her coat.

"Madame, how could you?" Ciel addressed his aunt's turned back.

"Even if I explained, a brat like you would never comprehend." She whirled around and grabbed his throat. She pushed him against the wall and held him there at arm length. As he struggled in her grasp, she viciously tightened her grip. The corner of her red lips curved into a ferocious snarl. "You little brat," she said through gritted teeth. "I wished you've never been born!"

Ciel's blue eyes widen in terror as Madame Red brandished her knife for the final blow. But her grip wavered when the sight of Ciel's wide blue eyes reminded her of his mother.

_Sister! _She achingly thought. Her body paralyzed in shock.

"Young master!" yelled Sebastian as he aimed to crush Madame Red's skull.

"Don't kill her!" Ciel shouted.

Sebastian withdrew his hand and clutched his bleeding shoulder with it, panting heavily in exhaustion.

"Sebastian…" Ciel murmured. His butler smiled weakly at him.

The knife clattered onto the stone pavement as Madame Red dropped it. She stumbled a few steps back and buried her tearful face into her hands.

Grell pulled out his chainsaw from the wall and walked towards them. "What are you hesitating for, Madame?"

Madame Red tearfully stared at her nephew's face. Her memory projected the image of a happy family of three. _My beloved sister…my beloved…and their little beloved…_ "I can't…I can't kill this child," she muttered to herself and painfully clutched her chest. Her shoulders shook as tears streamed down her pale cheeks.

"What are you talking about? After cutting up all those women all this time, you can't even kill a single kid? If you don't hurry up and kill him, _I'll _get rid of _you_ instead!"

"Madame…" Ciel reached for her in sympathy.

"But this boy is my nephew!" gasped Madame Red. She turned to Grell only to find his chainsaw cutting into her.

"Too late!" Grell exclaimed gleefully. "You disappoint me, Madame. In the end, you're just like those boring whores after all."

Blood burst like a fountain from her chest as Grell cruelly yanked out his scythe. Her face froze in shock and pain as she fell, and a roll of film bloomed from her chest as her blood continued to gush out.

"Is that…?" Sebastian trailed off.

"Yes. That's her Magic Play being shown." Grell answered, "These memories are being played back for a reason. They are judged by a higher power than ourselves to determine whether that person deserves to die or not." The strands of film surrounded them with repeated pictures of Madame Red and her sister.

"A film of their life…" Sebastian stated thoughtfully.

Grell huffed and pouted. "By the way, Sebby, it's called _Magic Play,_" he emphasized and dug his scythe into the ground and leaned on it. "Anyway…you're lucky you get to watch it." Grell added grudgingly.

Sebastian raised his eyebrow.

Grell laid a hand against his forehead and feigned swooning before declaring dramatically,

"Nothing in her life

Became her like the leaving it; she died

As one that had been studied in her death,

To throw away the dearest thing she ow'd,

As 'twere a careless trifle."

"Shakespeare's _Macbeth_?" Sebastian inquired.

"_Exactly_."

* * *

AN:

I've incorporated some of Shakespeare's _Macbeth_ into this chapter, and the original is:

Nothing in his life  
Became him like the leaving it; he died  
As one that had been studied in his death,  
To throw away the dearest thing he ow'd,  
As 'twere a careless trifle. (**Malcolm,** scene iv)

I've only changed the masculinity to femininity to fit Madame Red. Thank you, Mr. Shakespeare, for your inspiration.

This chapt was heavily edited by Vespisia at one in da morning, so I feel very indept to her for being a night owl.

Next Chapter: *A Red-letter Day

*an idiom for an important day.


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